


Turn Your Face to Me

by incogneato



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: BDSM Scene, Bondage, Consensual Violence, Dom bottom, Dom/sub, Explicit Consent, Impact Play, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sane and Consensual, future fic where Quynh and Booker are back for handwaved reasons, sub top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incogneato/pseuds/incogneato
Summary: "I have had enough of you thinking about so many other things, when I want you to think only of me."Joe blinks and refocuses on Nicky. He takes in the strong line of his back, standing almost at attention, the imperious jut of his chin. He swallows thickly."I can help you drive all this useless brooding out of your head, if you'll let me." Nicky raises one hand slowly, broadcasting his intentions clearly. "Will you let me?"Joe nods.(Dom Bottom Nicky and Sub Top Joe)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 23
Kudos: 257





	Turn Your Face to Me

In the first months after Booker and Quynh have fully returned back to the fold, out of fear of losing precious time with Andy and out of love, too, Joe is jittery and distractible.

Nicky knows why, not only because he knows his heart like his own but also because he feels similarly, if not to the same degree. It is hard to put aside suspicion, and it is an emotional burden to _want_ to put it aside and trust fully but still not be able to. They whisper their worries to each other in the night, sometimes, away from the ears of Andy and Nile. But whereas Nicky is starting to come to terms with his feelings, Joe seems to be overthinking more and more. 

He hesitates before asking Booker to do anything, and hesitates when he decides to not ask Booker to do something. His hands hover in uncertainty where before he would have thoughtlessly touched Quynh's arm companionably. Nicky catches him staring off into space sometimes, lost in a world of contemplation, and can tell from his expression that it's not about art or philosophy but rather about the nature of betrayal, of forgiveness.

Nicky decides it's time to put a stop or at least a pause to all that worrying one day when all the others are out. He sends Nile a text instructing her not to let any of them return until Nicky gives her the all-clear, unless they want to see him and Joe in a way they can never unsee, and she texts back "I hear you loud and clear 😩"

Then, he guides Joe by the shoulders into their bedroom and says, "I believe you have overthought enough in these last few weeks for several lifetimes."

Joe sits obediently down onto the bed where Nicky pushes him, but even now he's not present, his mind miles away, thinking about Quynh being out with Andy, about how Booker left the TV on before heading out. 

Nicky makes himself clearer: "I have had enough of you thinking about so many other things, when I want you to think only of me."

Joe blinks and refocuses on Nicky. He takes in the strong line of his back, standing almost at attention, the imperious jut of his chin. He swallows thickly.

"I can help you drive all this useless brooding out of your head, if you'll let me." Nicky raises one hand slowly, broadcasting his intentions clearly. "Will you let me?"

Joe nods.

Nicky hits Joe across the face.

Joe's head whips to the side from the force of the blow, his cheek blooming pink but fading again unnaturally fast. When he turns back to look at Nicky, his eyes have gone slightly glazed, the lines around them softened, more relaxed. Nicky smiles and rubs his thumb tenderly over his cheekbone, before hitting him again.

"What's your colour?" Nicky asks, and Joe gasps "green" in a hurry through quickened breaths. He's so green, raring to go, Nicky always knows when he gets like this.

He grips Joe's hair in one hand and opens his pants with the other, pulling them down just enough to get his cock out and leaving everything else on. He guides it to Joe's lips and asks his colour one more time, just to hear Joe repeat "Green, green, green" frantically.

He pushes into Joe's mouth relentlessly, ignoring his gagging, and goes to town. 

He pumps in and out at a harsh pace, pulling out enough to let him breathe sometimes so he doesn't pass out, gives him enough reprieve to not vomit from the choking, but his cock never fully leaves his lips and his fingers never leave his curls. At some point he sinks his other hand into his hair as well, holding his head with both hands so he can really grind it down on his cock. There are tears streaming down Joe's cheeks by the time he stops, withdrawing from his fucked-out throat and leaving a trail of saliva and precum down Joe's chin.

"Good," Nicky murmurs, and that single word makes the straining bulge tenting the crotch of Joe's pants twitch visibly.

"I want you to strip for me now, but you're not allowed to touch yourself," he tells Joe, while he takes his own clothes off, quick and methodical.

When Joe is naked, he manoeuvres him further up the bed and lays him down flat on his back, his swollen purple cock jutting straight up. Nicky climbs onto his lap and drizzles the lube he's retrieved from the bedside table onto his own fingers, reaching down to open himself up.

He does it deliberately theatrically, making a show of himself where he straddles Joe, crying out in pleasure as he angles two fingers in and manages to just barely graze his prostate. He liberally coats himself, slicking himself with increasingly obscene wet sounds, rubs his cock against Joe's thighs as he fucks himself back and forth on his hand.

As he expects, Joe is helpless before this display and without thinking, almost against his will, one hand drifts down to loosely circle his own cock. Nicky pulls his fingers out with great relish and, with the lube-filthy hand that was just inside of himself, slaps Joe across the face again.

"I said you can't touch it," he says roughly. "That dick belongs to me, and you're not allowed to touch it without permission." He takes Joe by the chin and squeezes, hard. "It's for my use only."

Joe pouts a little, body language slumping in on himself, like he's sad about being chastised. Nicky can't help but coo, letting go of his face to pet him, making a sticky mess of his beard. "That was unfair of me, my love," he says, "to set you to such a difficult task you were bound to fail. How about I make it easier for you to listen?" He pushes up and reaches back into the bedside table for a length of satin cord.

Joe nods quickly, hands drifting to the headboard on instinct, in the perfect position to be tied. Nicky can tell Joe is properly sinking into his role and not thinking, because of how quiet he's gone. He's normally so vocal when he's mentally present, always spouting some long poetic ramble from his lips. It's when Nicky successfully takes him out of his mind, reduces him into a creature of sensation whose only post of focus is Nicky, that he has nothing else to say.

Nicky makes quick work of securing Joe's wrists and forearms to the bed frame, not bothering to check if it's cutting off his circulation. He'll heal if it is, and he'll tell Nicky if he doesn't want it to. 

Sitting back to admire his work puts Joe's cock directly in the cleft of his ass, and he rolls his hips a few times just to feel it drag along his opening. Joe's arms tug helplessly against his restraints, confirming that they were needed. Nicky adds more lube to his palms and coats Joe's length, before kneeling up to sink down onto it.

Joe's cock, Nicky's favourite possession, splits him open just right. He knows every inch of it, every vein and curve, knows how to angle it so it hits the best spots, knows how to ride it to maximize his own pleasure. Nicky bounces on his lap and ignores Joe's weak attempts to thrust or gain purchase.

He's close, cock leaking onto both their bellies, when Joe clears his throat and blurts out, "Yellow."

Nicky freezes in position, Joe half in and half out of him, holding his rim open and wanting. He resists the temptation to sink down again and asks his beloved, "Do you need to stop?"

"I need to kiss you," Joe says, in a voice that sounds like he's close to crying.

"La mia vita," Nicky soothes, leaning forward and capturing Joe's lips.

He begins riding him again, hips pitching furiously as he works himself to the finish line, both arms around Joe's neck and head, covering him in open-mouthed kisses, pushing his tongue into Joe's mouth as he comes around his cock. The rhythmic clenching drives Joe over the edge as well, and he comes into Nicky in seemingly unending pulses until the seed drips out of him around the seams of the opening still plugged by his slowly softening cock.

Nicky reaches up to untie him. Joe, dazed and pliant, doesn't seem to notice that he's free and leaves his hands up there, knuckles white from gripping the frame.

Nicky whispers into his ear like it's a secret, "Just because you needed to be disciplined, just because you needed some help, doesn't mean you weren't good. You're so good, you're perfect for me, and I love you." 

Joe shivers and whimpers, throat clicking like he wants to speak but has lost the ability to, and Nicky knows that he's trying to say he loves him too. He kisses him quiet and watches with satisfaction as his eyelids grow heavy and he falls into a dreamless sleep, unable to think of anything except Nicky, Nicky, Nicky.

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the kink meme!


End file.
